Dog Days Are Over
by Lyrical Logic
Summary: In which Spock is up sh-t creek without a paddle. Or a boat. Or even a general sense of direction. He’s totally being logical about this whole ‘love’ thing. His reasons for this over-reaction are murky at best . For SOPHIE. S/Mc. SLASH. Yeah, that's it.


Dog Days Are Over

In which Spock is up shit creek without a paddle. Or a boat. Or even a general sense of direction. He's totally being logical about this whole 'love' thing. (His reasons for this over-reaction are murky at best).

FOR SOPHIE. Because Spock is 'guh' and McCoy is just sex and, well, it required to much angst to be Kock-y.

Warnings- Swearing? Not much of it even.

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

Notes- Okay, there is _something _I'm not happy with in this story and I will fix it once I figure out what it is. Also, I will never leave the slashdom now, damn you Soph. This IS ALL ON YOU!

Also, doesn't it bother anyone that Spock never really freaks out about being love. Sure theres denial but not like in TOS where Spock was OMFG FEELING SOMETHIN RIGHT NOW MUST REPRESS EVERYTHING I KNOW I'LL GO PURGE!, srsly, we need some of that up in here. Also, I intend to embark on a long and twisted tale with dear ol' pointy ears as the Main Character and need to develop his head space a little.

* * *

There were few situations he'd never even considered the possibility of, one of them being a- Him 'falling in love' with a human. Love, for obvious reasons was way out of the question. He'd spent too long proving himself as a Vulcan to beat it all down with the nonsensical emotional stick that was 'love' and then there was the tiny little fact that until it was quantified on a piece of paper carefully entitled 'Look. I exist!' he was not going to accept that 'love'- as in romantically, existed. After all despite the unconditional –and oft times embarrassing love his mother had for him he'd never seen an iota of it directed back at her from his father. He had dedicated many a scientific study to proving that 'love' quantifiably existed as a child, to establish to himself (and his ever present gaggle of unscrupulous and maddeningly unintelligent/unoriginal bullies) that his father wasn't 'stepping down' and his mother wasn't 'whoring herself out' because, back then, he'd needed to believe it.

Now, after his mother is dead and his father has bonded an entirely unsuitable new woman of Vulcan descent he believes that love -as described in many poetic forms all across this universe- is unquantifiable and indeed, most likely non-existent.

Of course, the universe being as it was, he ruins that almost entirely aboard the starship Enterprise by falling in 'love' not once, but three times. Logically, he knows some of the blame falls on his dual heritage, the fact that the small squirm of humanity that wriggles around in his brain and works its way between everything he grew up knowing and everything he must relearn is nothing but persistent. He knows that somewhere in that human part that seems to grow bigger every day he spends on the illogical patchwork of brilliance and _sheer dumb luck _that is the Enterprise is that ability to love as his mother does –did.

And he does not want it.

His humanity, that little sliding worm, makes him illogical and reckless and so un-Vulcan when _that _is what he must be. It's that worm that whispers to him to _stay with Starfleet _when every other voice screams that he must do right by his people and in conjunction himself. Those people, who may not have accepted him when he was 12 and a certified genius in most all capacities, but need him now that the DNA he carries is vital. And while that seems unfair –that a culture that has rejected him at every turn should so easily win him back, to him it makes sense. Every decision he has ever made has lead up to this point and now that _this, his_ time for acceptance is here he will prove himself worthy.

Enter Lt Uhura

Before the destruction of Vulcan they had been 'friends with emotional benefits' but afterward, with his control and his logical sanity sadly absent he'd allowed himself something more.

And now he is, to use a colloquialism –up shit creek.

Their relationship was strange. It required constant work and consideration far beyond the friendship they'd had before. It wasn't unpleasant and it _was_ unorganised but he quite liked her. A lot. He liked her a lot. He could quite easily see this being one of the few constants in his life. He liked her and it was easy to be with her.

Then it changed

She was absent some nights and he was losing interest in the sex. Not her, just the emotional conflict of sex. Then she started scaling their time all the way back because of work -that was understandable with the Enterprise being the flagship- but the rumours were the proverbial nail in the coffin. For 4.6 weeks space time he was haunted by whispers and words and _suggestions _about what he and Nyota did in their personal time.

Stage left, James T Kirk

Like the hero everyone not-so-secretly suspects him of being, James T Kirk the unflappable saves their relationship, putting rumours and their evil spreaders to rest with his mighty awesome powers!

(The above being entirely his own words with no input from Spock whatsoever)

(Really)

Of course, he would have to be blind and deaf and a much more mediocre scientist then he is to ignore the brilliant sparks between Jim (he finds that in his own mind calling him 'Jim' does not generate the awkward 'man hug' business it does in real life) and his current partner. That, coupled with the fact that his own feelings for Jim have been growing to reach proportions that roughly equal that of his for Nyota leaves a rather...strange feeling in his chest. Like standing naked in the desert while he watches others frolic in an oasis. It makes him uncomfortable and that in turn makes their traditional morning breakfasts with Doctor McCoy more strained than usual. Luckily, Doctor McCoy has enough empathic ability to notice and in turn 'ups the ante' on their frequent arguments. It's a nice distraction, if a little annoying. But he finds few things about Doctor McCoy pleasurable so all this annoyance does is add fuel to the proverbial fire between them.

It was over one of these breakfasts (Nyota and Jim exchanging lightly concealed romantic banter, him and the Doctor merely exchanging words liberally coated in a toxic viscous material) that he realises that he, Spock, is in love with both of them equally, that both of _them _(as in Jim and Nyota) have quite possibly spent the greater majority of their Starfleet careers in love with each other and that, despite the hurt and displeasure his little worm of humanity tells him he should feel, he simply feels a subdued sort of pleasure that he didn't ruin the inevitable happiness they will find with each other with the little blue box in his pocket. Simply watching the two of them talk ('Just because you went down on every female from her to the Delta doesn't mean I have to _acknowledge _it' 'What if I went down on _you_?' 'Vulcan boyfriend, you'd be singing in the choir invisible before you got past a nipple.' 'Can I _try_?') -he rationalises that maybe bonding with one of them isn't the easiest solution.

And it is leaving said breakfast that he realises that while he was 'up shit creek' before, he has now lost his paddle.

(-that and he should endeavour to have cucumber soup for breakfast more frequently, it seems to improve his cognitive functions)

* * *

'_Okay, I'm straddling you, I'm attractive, I'm naked and you're probably rethinking Einstein's theory of relativity. What's wrong?'_

'_Nyota, I-'_

"_Mmhmm" _

"_-need you to not do that"_

"_I thought you liked my tongue"_

"Nyota"

"_Fine"_

"_We need to rethink the romantic aspects of our relationship"_

_

* * *

_

Another day and it is only him and the Doctor at breakfast.

This is...awkward

"So you broke up with Uhura"

"Yes"

"And she's upset"

"Not particularly"

"But she's not here"

He nods his head and considers Denobulian mathematics, "Indeed"

"Well, did she eviscerate herself? Fall out an airlock? Where the goddamn hell is she? And Jim. Though I fully expect to find him crawling around Sickbay sans pants complaining of 'weird itches' below the waistline."

"...I do not believe there's a polite response to that statement."

McCoy shrugs and Spock thinks his shoulders are a nice even equation, "Guess not, I'll settle for the truth."

He pauses, breathes deeply and calls on his Vulcan forefathers for assistance

"I do believe she would be mid-coitus with the Captain at this exact moment in time."

Doctor McCoy drops his cup of coffee and proceeds to cuss about the large brown patch on his uniform. Spock very politely looks away and contemplates his new research. He should have more time to complete it now. When he finishes his first musing on the re-application of string theory in junction with the new relative universe theory he looks back at McCoy and finds wide eyes staring back at him. He takes a moment to survey him, sweaty brow, mussed hair, fine lines around his mouth and eyes, and light, quick breaths moving his chest. He keeps looking, hitting the brown stain on his pants and moving just as slowly up again.

Then, of course, he remembers that Humans probably don't spend quite that much time surveying and documenting people, especially people they proclaim to hate.

"You have got to be _shitting _me" McCoy dabs his shirt as he says it and Spock documents his hands as 'large, strong, working hands'.

"As there is no faecal matter involved I can safely say that I am not 'shitting you'." he lifts an eyebrow and takes another bite of his salad.

McCoy looks at him, looks away and throws down his napkin. He stands up and Spock is almost at crotch level. McCoy turns to him again and produces a flask. He flips the flask open and empties the contents into his glass of water. It immediately turns a disgruntled shade of brown.

He expresses his mild mortification with the upsetting condition of his water by raising an eye brow. McCoy pats him on the shoulder awkwardly (and it is awkward, he's still standing two feet away) and then vanishes out the door mumbling under his breath.

(For the record- _'Too old for this, too damn _old _for this!'_)

Spock taps the edge of his glass a little and, very briefly, smiles.

He drinks it

* * *

It is sitting at his desk in his quarters a little more tipsy for the three bottles of brandy he finds between Alpha shift in the Science labs and Gamma on the bridge, that he realises that he most certainly doesn't hate McCoy as much as he pretends to.

Then he drinks some more. Apparently with dedication and the right incentive a half-Vulcan can get stinking drunk.

He tries not to think about his incentive.

* * *

Two problems decide to present themselves the next morning

He was drunk last night. On alcohol. Which gives you hangovers.

Hangover cures are located in Sickbay. Which is not here. And contains Doctor McCoy. Who gave him the alcohol in the first place.

Amendment to problem b) –And McCoy is vaguely responsible for his drunken state. Post drunken. His humanity seems to slip out when inhibited. He tries very hard to think of what the hell he did last night and finds ab fab nothing. Ab fab? What does that mean? More importantly, why can't he sit up, surely he's not that incapacitated?

Enter Doctor Leonard 'Bones' McCoy

His little worm of humanity very helpfully slips in something he'd heard Jim say (and _there _are those stinging feelings of inadequacy and jealousy he should've been feeling about Jim and Nyota awhile ago, very unpleasant must suppress at a later moment) which goes- 'FML'

It expresses his opinion flawlessly

McCoy walks in a little nervous, slightly limping and strangely flushed. He comes to stand next to the edge of his bedside table and shouldn't there be a picture of his mother there?

"Ah Spock, how are you feeling."

_Horrible. _"I am...not quite up to my usual standards this morning."

"Sapped of energy?"

"Quite"

"Here this'll take care of _that_" he injects a hypo and steps back, "Now, we have to talk."

He rocks on his hells and swears under his breath and Spock thinks it's endearing for a split second before he thinks it's annoying.

"Well, uh, how much do you remember about last night?"

"Ab fab nothing."

"What?"

"Pardon me, it seems my cognitive centres are...malnourished."

Which is not, strictly, a lie. Nourishment is something most patients require after severe poisoning.

"O...kay"

"Do continue"

"Dear god do I have to? See, Spock, you walked into my Sickbay at 0-23 hours last night and said- and I'm quoting you- 'Doctor I do believe we need to give up this farce and express our deep love for each other' then you kissed me."

And there goes his boat.

Leaving him up shit creek without a paddle or a boat and the cognitive battle for his brain at- Humanity- 3, Logic- Negative 38

Negative 39, as his Logic has all but stopped functioning opting instead for a loud '_sssssssssshkshakashakashakashakaka, please return when you decide to use the ridiculous amount of intelligence you've been gifted with.' _And his human side a more laid back _'We won! We won!'_ "I...I...cannot think of...are you _sure?_"

"No Spock, someone else kissed me in my own damn Sickbay who just happened to look like you _and _have that surgical scar next to your left eye."

Yes, because alternate realities are so _very _unlikely

"Mirror Universe."

McCoy grimaces and they both ponder that for a moment. Then he sees a bruise on the doctor's neck and everything proceeds to jump straight back to 'awkward with dashes of humour and a sick sense of inevitability'

His humanity squeals (can he think that? Surely it's breaking some special law for him to imagine himself squealing) 'HE KNOWS THE EXACT POSITION OF MY SCARS?!' while his ever vanishing Vulcan brain goes- 'Wait. _Why? _WHY? WHY? WHY? WHY? TOUCH TELEPATHIC! WHAT THE HELL WAS HE DOING _TOUCHING ME?!_'

"You noticed my scar?" he lifts an eyebrow; ah it feels good to do that.

McCoy looks at him like he's broken some _law _of stupidity with that last comment, "I'm a _doctor._"

Yes. Quite.

That's another negative for you Vulcan brain.

"I meant how did you get close enough to see it."

He repeats the aforementioned look, "You _kissed _me"

"I was obviously not...thinking well..."

"So we're back to this?" McCoy growls, quaint Southern accent coming across-

(Wait, quaint _what-?_)

-and begins crawling on top of his legs.

"Back to what?"Now McCoy's hands are slipping along the edges of his thighs.

McCoy stops when his head is level with Spocks shoulders and shifts so he can lower some of his body on to Spocks legs, "This evasion, I thought we were past it last night."

"Last night"

"We...might've slept together afterward."

And when things get too strange for him to handle (like a man he may or may not find sexually attractive sitting on his legs when he has a hangover. When he, Spock of Vulcan, has a hangover. The universe has changed vectors) he must disproved them, "Then why am I in my own quarters."

"These are mine." Ah, but this is the starship Enterprise where logic, normal spatial vectors and common sense tend to take a back seat.

Give up Logic. Humanity is kicking your proverbial ass.

(And giving him an apparently long overdue sense of vulgarity. He never swore in standard till he met McCoy and Jim)

"Yours."

"Yes"

"Not mine"

He rolls his eyes, "_Affirmative_"

"Yours"

"They could be yours. I mean you could stay here from time to time."

It's the combination of the faint hope in Leonards eyes and the niggling feeling in his pants that says 'Abort! If you value your integrity, abort!' and like a good boy he strives to obey.

"I am late for Alpha shift."

"Oh for _fucks sake." _And then he uses some equation like mass plus speed or something to pin Spock to the bed and kiss him like the suns going out and there only hope is to power it with the force of their desire.

(Human brain, we deduct one point for that _awful _bit of poetry.)

Logic stampedes forward and waves a flag saying 'baaaaaaaaad idea' in his brain and he leans away. Leonard (because there's no point pretending any sort on unfamiliarity at this point) groans and sits back, "What _now?_"

(_Yes, what now Spock? What will you do now?_

_Excuse me?_

_Yes?_

_I'm Spock's sense of emotional preservation. I suggest running away._

_Thank you emotional self preservation, we'll get right on that_)

He gets up from the bed and ignores the hopeful look in Leonard's eyes.

And when he walks out the door Leonard doesn't even try to stop him.

* * *

'_Nyota?'_

'_It's all good, I'm...I think I am in love with the captain anyway...and you haven't wanted me this way for a while...'_

'_No,'_

'_Spock, I'm going to my room now. We're still friends and...'_

'_Nyota I-'_

'_Shh, tell him. We'll all be happier for it.'

* * *

_

"You're making a mistake."

Jim says that as he takes a bite of his pizza and Nyota makes disgusted noises next to him. Spock watches with warm amusement up to the moment he realises what Jim is referring to.

"I do not see how it affects you."

Jim and Nyota both give him one long look that questions his mental health. _His_ mental health, as in Spock, the _telepathic _one. Humans. They will always astonish him.

"Spock, as the person here who's known you longest I've got two words for you" Nyota pauses and brings her fork level with his eyes, "Butch up."

"And as the best friend of the guy you've accidently seduced I say, always use protection." He takes Nyota's fork and uses it to shovel the grease laden eggs dominating the rest of his tray into his mouth.

Nyota rolls her eyes and mouths, 'Do you _see _what I have to put up with?'

He is amused again for a moment until-

"God_dammit _man, I'm a doctor, not a scientist! Why would I know what the fungus your great Aunt's cultivating in between her toes is!"

"He's coming over" Jim says in a sing song voice. Spock ponders briefly what he was on when he believed he and Jim were ever going to be more than very close friends. Really. Nyota slaps him and he loses his egg onto the toe of Leonard's foot.

Leonard shakes off the egg and hits him again then gestures at Spock, "Well?"

It is then he actually notices the seating arrangement. It is a table for four, which is two chairs on either side and since Jim-and-Nyota take up one side that leaves...

The empty spot next to him

"Of course," then he slides over so he's in front of Nyota. She gives him a kick and stands.

"Well its, Beta shift for me," Liar, it's not even a quarter through Alpha. "See you." then she walks away. Jim looks from her to him and Leonard. Leonard scowls.

"Hey wait up!"

And then they are alone.

Spock makes a point of refolding his napkin, "Well?"

Leonard half smiles, half scowls, "Ab fab nothing."

What _does _that mean?

"I do believe I must return to the science labs." Spock stands to go and Leonards hand shoots out, twists the fabric around his arm and tugs down.

"Sit down and shut up. Look, we are going to talk about this like civilized people, you two faced backstabbing hobgoblin."

Spock sits down.

The aforementioned hand slips down his arm and comes to rest on his inner thigh (?) where it begins making small circular motions (!?) which is fine until his inner Vulcan starts making a noise vaguely like purring (!?!?).

"Then I must ask you remove your hand from my thigh."

The stroking gets more insistent.

"It's incentive."

Spock delicately picks up Leonards hand (and he sweeps his thumb up and along Spocks palm in a motion considered pornographic by most touch telepathic cultures) and places it neatly near the rest of Leonards body, that is, not his immediate personal space.

"It is unnecessary; since I also believe we must talk about the occurrences of the last 48 hours." He makes his point by sliding over to the other side of the table.

"Fine. Shoot" And Leonard retaliates by lightly sliding his foot until it reaches a slice of open skin.

"Doctor as I am not holding a-"

Eye roll, "_Ask_"

"Why did you supply me with vast quantities of alcohol?"

"I didn't, that was Jim"

"Why would the Captain require me inebriated?"

"Because he knows both of us too damn well."

Yes, but that does not answer his question, "How does that equal my being inebriated?"

"Are you this thick all the time or do you pull it out just for me?"

He is sure there is something inappropriate about that sentence "I am not 'thick' in any way shape or form."

"But you are _amazingly _dense, isn't denial meant to be, I dunno, _illogical._"

Leonard shifts his leg a little more tenaciously and Spock retracts both of his in a scramble for dignity. A betazoid crew member gives him a sympathetic look. Usually he'd know exactly who it was but Leonards pressing his _incentives_ through their contact and he can barely see past his hands let alone the other side of the room.

"Doctor in order to make the best of this situation we must discuss it truthful and frankly and most importantly without your unnecessary and often ludicrous attempts to garner an emotional reaction from me."

The leg retracts.

"Well, that wasn't too hard."

"May inquire as to what you are referring to?"

"Emotional reaction. That's what I want, that's what I've been trying to _get _for a damn long time now."

For once in his strange and lonely existence as a 'half-breed' the two opposing sides of his brain are in complete agreement-

He is up shit creek without a boat, a paddle and now a sense of direction.

(Actually his human side sounds more like- _Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu- _in an entirely Jim-like manner)

"Why would you want to compromise my principles more than you already have?"

He gets one very long stare for his emotional troubles. Oddly, it's at this moment he feels a surge of illogical annoyance at his older-counterpart. 'Do what feels right' indeed. Next time he will endeavour to ignore any and all attempts to drive him into a shallow grave, since that's all the _Enterprise _seems to want to do.

Leonard drops his face into a hand and groans, "Just my luck, falling for an emotional stunted hobgoblin who can't see past his own ass."

Spock's intelligent, fascinating, ground breaking brain that can calculate statistics in seconds finds itself washed up on a shore of its own inadequacies. How _did _he _not_ see this coming?

Strike three on the starship Enterprise, breaking Vulcan morals and standards the universe over.

To his credit he doesn't say the first thing that comes into his mind (a collection of love sonnets, Old Vulcan swear words and what looks like Jim dancing around in his underwear waving a sign that says 'Victory!') opting for the less embarrassing option of drinking a bit more of his soup (carrot, he did not like them before and does not now) and considers his options

A- Deny it. Deny it all. Keep a normal dynamic

Downside- He is already severely compromised; denial will only serve to strain the relationship.

B- Let him down gently. Make the rejection easy.

Downside- McCoy. _Leonard_ McCoy. Best friends with James T Kirk. As in the two most impossible people in the universe. He is not quite unintelligent enough to get those two upset.

Which leaves him at-

C- Accept the relationship.

Well, he could always do that. It seems his humanity is already showing, why not this too.

"All right Doctor, I expect to see you in my quarters at the end of shift."

Then, because all logical options are exhausted, he leaves the Mess and continues redesigning String Theory.

* * *

Precisely 15.9 minutes before end of shift he realises that there is very likely a sort of standard for these things and he's ignored it.

(Then his Vulcan brain explodes into a puddle when it realises that he's _nervous _about a _date _with _Leonard McCoy_.

And that the other twisting feeling is something his Human side quantifies as 'a strong positive emotion of regard and affection')

Then he wonders what he has to lose if his boat, paddle and sense of direction are already gone.

(He does, eventually, find an answer but that is a problem he will save for later)

* * *

"_I told you it would work"_

"_Shut up Kirk or I won't sleep with you again"_

"_But you have to admit, if it weren't for me getting him drunk they wouldn't be going at it like monkeys in there right now. Man. I am so _cool. _And you're stunning by the way. Just putting it out there."_

"_Sweetie?"_

"_Yes"_

"Shut up"

* * *

4 months later after three disastrous dates and a tribble flooded intervention from Nyota, Sulu and Scotty, he and his now apparently permanent lover are lying in bed.

"I want a meld"

Sexed up human say what?

(Thank you Human-brain, that was helpful. Now go sit in the corner)

Usually post coitus his partner is asleep in a pool of their own drool and he is still awake enough to process his work.

Leonard on the other hand...

"Why do you propose a meld?"

Leonard rolls over to face him, his eyes are half mast, "I just do"

"Ask again in the morning."

"Whatever you no good son of a..." and then he is asleep.

* * *

Kissing goodbye before Leonard leaves Spock thinks that this is not the first time he has asked for a meld nor the first time he's been refused. He wonders how long it will take Leonard to get fed up with this.

(Fed up with him)

* * *

Three hours before his shift and 15 minutes after Leonard leaves for his, Spock opens his memos.

He says no to three requests for a temporary transfer for scientific research, ignores a barrage of insidious reports about his various relationships (and he wonders who this 'Gaila' is and why he and Chekov are having a torrid affair with her) and lastly comes across a missive from his father, politely asking for his assistance in a field of expertise that is almost uniquely his own.

Namely- humans and how not to let them kill _all _your logic.

(He would suspect his father of having greater knowledge but he gets the feeling his mother managed him and not the other way around)

It would be 3 stellar weeks at an ambassadorial meet-and-greet, followed by 6 weeks at a lunar outpost in neutral space. A tempting offer but he has many duties aboard the ship as well as his duties to his lover.

* * *

He signs the form three minutes later.

* * *

And it really has nothing to do with his reluctance to meld with Leonard.

Really.

* * *

And even less to do with the fact that if he has lost everything he controls (his boat, his paddle, his direction) logically all he has left to lose is himself.

* * *

He almost manages to sneak off the ship.

"Where the _fuck _do you think you're going"

Goddamn it, Jim

(Oh dear, his inner voices are starting to adopt Leonards inflections

Even worse- he thinks it is attractive)

Jim 'goddamn' Kirk grabs him by the shoulder and swings him around. The sweet salvation of the transporter is two steps away and Lt Hanssesnea is standing by.

"What's this about you and Sulu going to an ambassadorial meet?"

Spock mentally wishes a slow death on one Hikaru Sulu and utilises his much more prominent Human side to conceive a well balanced and un-unravelable deceit.

Or, lie, for those of us not use to such long and winding syntax.

"I am aiding my father in a matter of diplomacy and I believe Lt Sulu is using the opportunity to visit his botany professor."

"For _four months?_"

Okay brain, bring forth the lie, "That is the longest the mission would take. Given the Federations recent dealings with the Orions and Kertians I felt it would be best to allow myself the full spectrum of time to-"

"Spock, leave it. It's okay, I mean, Bones knows and I've already signed the forms so it's not like you're running out on us."

Except, emotionally that's exactly what he intends to do.

Jim need not know that

"Of course, Captain."

Jim smiles, "Jim, Spock, between Bones and Uhura we're practically related now."

That causes an uncomfortable feeling to jab between his temples.

(Later mediation will reveal that to be _guilt _at lying to not one but _three _of the people he's closest to.

Three people he loved)

"Of course, Jim"

And then Jim lets a heartbreaking smile cross his face and Spock illogically thinks of how beautiful the baby Uhura does not yet know she is carrying will be. He has already purchased it a gift and will send it before-

Well, before.

* * *

The last message he receives comes three days before that faithful communication from his father.

It is an acceptance of his wish to complete the Kolihnar.

* * *

He does _not, _in fact, come to this decision lightly. He spends many nights awake and toying with Leonards hair or sitting in the science labs calculating something before he realises that this _emotionality _is causing a disagreeable lack of focus.

Case in point- Three days after his first date with Leonard his work performance drops by almost _14.8% _and continues an unacceptable rate of decline with each night he spends in Leonard's quarters.

And he doesn't seem to _care_

It's maddening and disastrous and he realises the exact same thing happened with Nyota. The closer he comes to finding a stable constant in his life the more his human side attaches and skews havoc over his control. No amount of meditation will cover his continuing desire to immerse himself fully in this...love thing.

Indeed, the unquantifiable has been quantified. Spock of Vulcan believes himself...in love with one Doctor Leonard McCoy.

(His Vulcan brain both heaves a sigh of relief and packs its mental bags because, apparently, the struggle for his mind is over and the illogical has 'whoop-assed' logic to the high heavens)

But he cannot, he _cannot _give up the control he has strived for all his life. It is fundamental to who he is as a person and he realises that should the choice come down to it he will quite simply choose the safety and continuing viability of his species (himself as a productive member of society) over his duties to his ship, its crew and his lover.

(His human side is screaming '_BULLSHIT' _at the top of its lungs and Spock would like to take the time to remind it that it has _won, _logic has officially left the building and it would be nice if it could _shut up now_.)

Yes, his species first.

As it should be

* * *

Nyota notices first.

"Spock, it's been three weeks. The meet ended six days ago, where are you?"

He does not answer

* * *

Jim calls him three days later and yells for well over a half hour.

He, too, receives no reply

* * *

Sulu and Chekov comm together just to talk and the strange friendly ambience catches him off guard. So much so that he does not notice the gentle fish for information till well into the third hour of their confabulation.

He recommends them both for interrogation training.

* * *

Leonard makes no move to contact him

* * *

It his last week before his return to the Enterprise and he prepares himself for the three day exercise that is the Kolihnar.

He avoids using the usual images of Leonard to centre himself, opts for his mother and his ex-Planet.

He realises it is not working at the same moment he truly grasps what ridding himself of his emotions will truly mean.

(And that despite what he feels he owes the species he owes more to the memory of his mother and her unconditional –and oft times embarrassing- love.

The same that he owes to Leonard)

It will mean the destruction of both sides of him, the Logic nurtured by his mother and his father and the Illogical crafted by human hearts and hands between the big black pulse that is the universe-

(Thank you Human side for that piece of eloquence)

-will he, in good conscience let that happen?

* * *

That and his reasons for this over-reaction are murky at best

* * *

His father is the deal breaker

"You have changed." He says, succinct and evanescent as ever.

"I do not understand"

"You have aged"

(_...did he really-?_

_Yes, I do believe he did._

_Wow, way to be obvious_

Inner voices. Shut _up_)

"I see," he replies when in fact he does not see at all. He is to leave for the purge of his emotions in approximately half an hour and his father whom he has never been close to is commenting on his not particularly recent growth spurt. Really, aren't humans meant to be the illogical ones?

"I do not believe you do" his father nods at a passing official and bows to an emperor.

Spock does the same, "I confess, I do not."

"You have changed into a strong-willed and intelligent man." His father sighs, "I regret not knowing you better."

What is an appropriate reply to that?

His father gives him no opening, simply holds out a box. Spock takes it and pulls on the two ribbons holding it together.

"Your mother sent for this just before she...died." the last word is uncomfortable and strung too tightly in the air between them.

Inside it is a boat, two oars and a small compass.

"She said it was to guide you"

* * *

He does not complete the Koilhnar

His father is unsurprised

* * *

His return to the brilliance that is the Enterprise is punctuated by attacking Klingons and such as it is no one really registers that he is back on board till well after he is re-settled into his quarters. And because his romantic misadventures always start with Nyota it is her precise knock that rolls him out of a light nap.

(He and his cat agree that naps are the only real way to get any sleep around here. Disasters do not tend to obey his carefully made sleeping schedule.)

He sits up, pulls on a shirt and says, "Enter"

She does. He always did like her straightforwardness, "You're back"

"Indeed" he lifts an eyebrow and smiles a little, stunned by how _happy _he is to see her.

"You didn't..." she pauses and exhales, the breath rattling around in her throat, "I was so scared you'd do something you'd regret."

The point of rejecting all emotion would be that he wouldn't feel regret but in the spirit of not having himself maimed (because Nyota has proved _gifted _with a sharp object) he simply nods and accepts it for what it is.

An olive branch

It says that he is not forgiven but she is willing to _try

* * *

_

Should he ever procreate Nyota will be the mother of his children. She is the only one suitable for the job.

* * *

The rest of the crew accepts him with only slight reluctance. Moving on efficiently and illogically as always.

Jim is not so easy

"So, you given up running?" it is over a chess game in Jims quarters, where the silence has been amicable and the game fierce. He should've known Jim wouldn't keep quiet forever.

"I believe so," he has a million stock phrases like that to fall back on.

More silence

"He hasn't slept properly since you left and we lost a lot of people a few weeks ago," Jim's voice patters down lower, "We almost lost him too."

Spock says nothing simply concentrates harder on the game, calculating a win margin of almost 6 percent if he can just-

"Dammit Spock!" Spock blinks at Jim and his eyebrows pull together, he can win in four moves shouldn't Jim counter?

Something...wet, travels down the curve of Jims cheek, "Don't you care at all?"

Should he even find a way to get his brain to compute with his mouth he doesn't think Jim would appreciate, 'I am Vulcan Jim, what he needs I cannot always provide. Not at the expense of myself.' as an answer.

He reaches for a lie, finds exactly what he didn't want coming out instead, "I am Vulcan Jim, what he needs I cannot always provide. Not at the expense of myself."

Sadly, his brain hasn't worked out all the kinks of lying to people other than himself.

"So to you being Vulcan means to be selfish?" he moves a bishop with more force than strictly necessary.

Spock sighs in a lightly judgmental manner, "No it means that I cannot give up what my mind tells me is right for what my body thinks it wants."

"So it was only physical to you."

"Most certainly not. Had it been I would've never felt the need to apply for the Kolihnar"

The bishop drops to the floor as does Jims jaw, "You were going to _purge _all _emotion_."

"How do you know the meaning of the word?" Spock asks, contemplating his strategic win in three moves. He looks up at Jim and moves his queen. Jim calms down.

"There was a time when I thought we would get...you know" he twines his fingers in an impression of 'you know' and settles his fingers over a rook, "but you were always staring at Bones hands. Figured I'd lost out by then." He sounds...sad, yet he is perfectly content in his relationship with Nyota even going so far as to proclaim it 'bon-diggidy awesome'.

Humans are very strange.

Spock moves a knight down a level and fits his fingers together in front of him, "You hadn't. Not by that point. It wasn't until you and Nyota were fighting over your sexual reputation as a cadet that I realised the battle was truly over."

"Why?"

"Because you looked at her like she'd engulfed your sun, and she, she gave the same reverence back." That was much easier to say than he thought it would be.

"Could say the same about you and Bones." Jim takes his queen –check in two moves- and casually throws it behind him.

He shakes his head and accepts that Jim will maybe never understand what he is trying to say, Jim as a _being _is all too sure of who he is and where he stands, "You could not. At all times throughout this relationship I have feared that I do not have the capacity to 'love' as brilliantly as you do, my own...inadequacies as a human and a Vulcan prevent that. To be able to give myself to another in that manner I must find a harmony."

"Bullshit"

Really, it is not and if Jim would tone down the shine from his over-inflated sense of self he'd see that. "It is not."

"It damn well is, you think you don't express yourself enough," And Jim has _completely _missed the point, "_fine, _you be Vulcan and mopey and shit in the corner by your tight ass self. But I swear, Spock, don't make Bones suffer for it. All he wanted was you and he doesn't deserve to be punished for that."

It seems that he will simply have to withdraw, "I know and I intend to rectify that as soon as possible."

Jim moves his own queen in a different way then what he calculated, "You better, or I will rain down a can of whoop-ass on you like you haven't ever imagined."

And then Jim checkmates him

* * *

Three hours later he meditates.

He looks at the boat his mother gave him and realises that her touch on who he must be now is fleeting. He is still her son and he will always wear the marks of that but her advice, an entire lifetime of it has been condensed into a small wooden object and his ability to find himself within it.

All he really knows is that he has had his boat stolen, his oars taken and his direction found lacking. In a rage of self-pity he almost let himself drown too. His control over who he is and what he feels is shredded and should he wish to continue..._feeling _as he does he must find a balance to float him up and out of this creek.

(His inner voices applaud his 'getting a clue')

* * *

He removes his things from Leonards quarters in the middle of the night, it is likely to go better if there are no traces left floating of him.

"This it then?"

His voice is rough and unguarded.

"Leonard." Spock looks at him and balances equations on his large shoulders, Leonard looks back with unabashed anger and hurt chasing shadows across his face.

"This is it then? You just gonna run off into the night you double crossing-" then his whole body shudders and Spock realises just how unwell he must be, "just, take it and go."

"I am-" _sorry_

Leonard throws a pair of his pants at him, "You aren't. You never were" he simply lets himself slide to the floor and pulls out his flask, "Jesus how did you get so _stupid _Leo."

"You are not stupid"

His voice turns sarcastic, "Right. Of course not. That's why you're going to sneak off without a goodbye."

Spock sighs to himself and gathers all his courage (there's about enough to fit a small perfume bottle) and strides to stand next to him in the doorway, "I was simply removing my things till such a time that we were on amicable enough terms for me to return them here."

And now, with Leonards unabashedly shocked face staring up at him, he thinks that maybe his logic really _doesn't _make sense to anyone else. Disturbing that, logic is universal.

"_What?_"

He gently takes Leonards (strong, working, beautifu-) hands in his own and breathes across the finger tips. Far from looking appeased Leonard looks far more like to strangle him. Ah well, must carry on, "I am 'breaking up with you' not because of a lack of care on my part but because I have lost nearly everything that defines me. I need that definition, that control over who I am."

He drops Leonards hands and lets himself smile for ten seconds before it starts to freak him out.

"I repeat, _what?_" the shock in his voice is amusing.

"I must steady myself and find the Spock who can live equally with his human side and to do that I must understand what it truly means to be 'up shit creek' and I _must _understand what drives _that _Spock" he pauses, "You once said that you wanted an emotional reaction from me and you had been trying for some time to facilitate one. This is that reaction. To be fair, Nyota and Jim got the 'ball rolling' as far as my near emotional breakdown is concerned."

"You still don't make sense." Leonard says hands rubbing his eyes.

"I am not giving up on us, I simply wish for there to be an us where I am not afraid to meld because I fear you will find some part of me distasteful or where you feel you cannot touch me in public. Neither can be achieved until I understand who I am as an individual. I have always been a part of a collective. First as a member of Vulcan and then as a member of Starfleet and while I am still an active member of both I am also aboard this ship and a part of _this_." He gestures to the walls and the space beyond. Leonard snorts his understanding. "I do not understand what it is to be _alone _and do not understand what it is to be just _Spock._"

"Alright then." Leonard looks him the eyes, "But I swear to god if you cheat on me I will kill you."

And now for the icing on top of the proverbial cake-

"I ask that you keep this"

He hands him the small compass his mother gave him, devoid of boat and oars because he feels that he'll need those first.

"A compass?" Leonard says sarcasm inflicting every word. He holds the compass flat in his hands and the needle spins between himself and the good doctor. "Really?"

"Yes. To help guide me home."

* * *

Sappy ending is sappy.

Is there more to this- No, none at all. Don't ask for it, it won't happen.


End file.
